Unfortunately, the shoe chewer has been getting cagier as he ages. I rarely catch him with the shoes in his mouth anymore, just find the chewed shoe in the front hall or the hallway upstairs. I always shrug it off and tell myself, "Eh, they're just shoes," but the problem is, I don't have that many shoes to begin with and my choices are getting scantier.
I guess I wouldn't mind so much but the other day he chewed my favorite, most comfortable sandals EVER. They aren't totally destroyed, I just can't wear them to work again, the big teeth marks and ripped stitching are a bit too obvious for that. Then yesterday he chewed my only other pair of comfy sandals that were suitable for work, cute Italian things that were made of fabric and are now unwearable. That leaves only the hot-pink, patent leather ones - but those aren't terribly comfortable and they really don't go with a lot.
Notice I haven't mentioned anyone by name here. Without DNA testing I can't say for sure who has been chewing my shoes, I mean, really, it could be Gregg or Moonie or Hugo. Even though it's shoes that have been chewed, the MO is not really the same as previous shoe-chewings; none of these shoes had tassels.
I just can't shake the feeling though, that somehow this is the work of a certain blind hound with a newfound penchant for strappy footwear.